Last of Her Line
by Meesh
Summary: Karyna Cousland had put off telling her fellow Grey Warden, Alistair, her real name for weeks. After being ambushed on their way to Redcliffe, she realizes she can't hide her past from him any longer.


"Are you _sure_ that was a good idea?"

Karyna and Alistair watched as Zevran swaggered over to introduce himself to Bodahn and Sandal. Nothing about deciding to offer a place in their group to the assassin sat well with her, but her instincts were rarely wrong about people. Growing up with a father who was the second-most powerful noble in the nation tends to hone one's skills in cutting through the crap and seeing what someone really wants of you.

Zevran wanted to live, by any means necessary…and who could blame him, really? But there was a small part of her that believed he genuinely wanted to work with her, too; it'd be utterly foolish to let her guard down, though. He _was_ an assassin, originally hired to kill her and Alistair.

She couldn't help a sigh, leaning forward to set a stick into the fire. "No, Alistair. I'm not sure it was a good idea, but I did it for two reasons. First, I'm not exactly in the practice of slaughtering people in cold blood. Second, because that one blood mage got away, we have no idea if they'll report back to Loghain or not. Keeping him," her hand waved toward the elf, "nearby will hopefully be a blind spot for Loghain. If that mage doesn't report back, Loghain may assume he was successful for a while, given the time it takes to travel back to Antiva."

Alistair always had a particularly amusing reaction when he was trying to find a way to disagree with her logic, but knew deep down that he couldn't come up with a rebuttal. His forehead would wrinkle a little, his mouth would twist up to one side, and he'd make a low "thinking" noise. She couldn't help but roll her eyes a bit, biting back a laugh.

"Well… I guess you're right. I just don't trust him."

Karyna smiled and set about retightening the straps on her boots. "Neither do I, Alistair; but you know the old saying about keeping your enemies closer. We'll just have to be sure that we don't let him keep watch by himself."

His metal boot gently clanked against the nearby stew pot. "That, and keep a closer eye on the food."

"If you watch the food too closely, it may actually crawl away."

"Hey! My cooking isn't that…" Alistair's pout quickly turned sheepish as he looked to what was residing in said stew pot. "Well, maybe it is that bad. We certainly seem to be picking up enough people each time we stop, so can I ask that the next one be a chef?"

She blew some of her long hair out of her face with a bored sigh. "We'll see. At this rate, our camp will be hosting an army before we get even half the treaties taken care of. It's going to make it a lot harder to lay low after a while."

"Well, let's be honest. We're not exactly hard to spot as it is: two Grey Wardens, a mage, an elf assassin, a _qunari_, and a former lay sister that anyone in the Chantry will recognize."

A short, wry chuckle snuck its way out when he lumped her in as one of the 'two Grey Wardens.' While that was technically true, Alistair had no idea who she _really _was. Once they hit Redcliffe, she would suddenly be their biggest obstacle to lying low. She knew the noble family of Redcliffe very well; they were great friends of Highever. In fact, Karyna had accompanied her mother to stay with Isolde during Connor's birth. Once she showed herself at a noble house, with gossipy servants and guests, the entirety of the land would know she was still alive…including Loghain. Vengeance was always at the forefront of her mind, but every time she was blindsided by the need to march into Highever and slaughter Howe herself, her father's words echoed through her mind.

_Our family always does our duty first._

As one of only two known Grey Wardens throughout the entirety of Ferelden, it was her duty to end the Blight. Vengeance would happen – and oh, how it would be wrought upon his treacherous head – but it would have to wait. For now, Loghain and Howe had the advantage. If she and Alistair were captured, there was no escaping it: they would die, and the Blight would overrun the land.

"What are you thinking about?" A quick glance over to Alistair showed him giving her what she liked to call his 'suspicious eye.' "You've got that look again; the one that says you're thinking something I'm not going to like."

Oh, how right he was for once. "We can't go to Redcliffe next."

The surprise in his voice quickly fizzled away, confusion rising in its place. "What?! Why… Why not? He's an honorable man, and we can trust him!"

"I know we can! Believe me, I know him better than you think I do."

Alistair paused mid-bite, slowly lowering the hunk of tack instead of ripping a chunk off. "What? How do you know him?"

She looked over to lock eyes with Alistair for a moment, gauging his expression; thankfully, he seemed more confused than anything. A small, cold knot settled in the pit of her stomach and she looked away with a sigh. Even two months ago, telling someone she was Karyna Cousland of Highever would have caused her heart to soar…

But now it was a grim reminder that she was all that remained.

"I know his family very well. He's been a friend of ours for years. I'm… I'm sorry I lied to you, Alistair. My real name is Karyna Cousland."

Alistair often sounded baffled much of their time together, but this was a new level of bemusement. "Kar… Karyna?" A faint laugh slightly cracked his voice. "Your name isn't Kelly? Why would you…"

She turned at the sound of grass ripping as Alistair twisted to look at her. "Why would you lie abo–" Sudden and panicked realization set in his eyes, and Karyna was sure she was remembering their conversation last night, about where to go after the Circle.

_"Yes, Redcliffe is nearby, but this is the closest we'll get to Highever, based on the treaties we have. I don't understand why you don't think the teyrn there would support us. Everything I've heard of him says that he's a good man."_

_"We can't, Alistair. Arl Howe attacked Highever Castle and killed everyone: the staff, the soldiers, the nobles."_

_"What?! How do you know that?"_

_"I'm from Highever. Duncan managed to get me out in time."_

_"Murdering a noble family, especially right now…why would anyone do that?"_

_"Greed, power, jealousy. I don't know. The point is that's not somewhere we can rely on for help."_

The fire's crackling filled the space between them as Alistair stayed quiet. This is what she had dreaded. Understanding. Recognition. Bottling it all up had worked well so far, and the nightmares weren't too bad anymore. Now that he knew who she really was, everything would be different. Misguided attempts at sympathy or comfort were likely; Alistair's heart was usually in the right place, but he didn't think things through most of the time. Better he found out now instead of at a critical moment, though.

"…You have your mother's face."

The only thing more startling to Karyna than that phrase was the person who said it. She whipped around to see Wynne sitting under a tree, quietly watching the two of them. The elder mage's wooden needles lightly clunked against one another as she shot Karyna a look so sympathetic, it was almost sickening.

The young Warden took a few moments to compose herself before asking the obvious question. "How do you know that?"

"I didn't recognize you at first, but you seemed familiar; now I understand why. Before I became a Senior Enchanter, Irving would often ask me to accompany him to Denerim, to help advise King Maric. I remember being fortunate enough to be allowed to attend when your parents, proud as can be, presented you at court. Cailan was enthralled with blonde hair, even as a little boy."

Wynne may have meant the story to comfort, but instead the thought of her parents, happy and young, ripped open the still-fresh wound of their deaths. The only thing that kept Karyna from falling into the trap of grief once more was closing her eyes and imagining Howe's face as she stabbed him in the heart – avenging her parents. One day. One day they will rest easy, knowing that not only did she bring him to justice, but that she did so while never shirking her duty.

Breathe in purpose.

Breathe out the pain.

"Wynne, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but please don't. Nothing but justice will bring me closure."

Grey hair bobbed in a slow nod. "I understand, and I apologize, but please do not be blinded by your desire for revenge. Rendon Howe will get what he deserves, in time. Such deeds cannot go unpunished. Take heart, dear. You survived, even when you were not expected to. We do not know yet what lies in store for you, or the name you carry."

There was nothing Karyna could say in response that would accurately express just how far off the mark Wynne was; instead, she just sighed and stayed quiet. She had discovered that awkward silence was a very good deterrent to nosy mages with a lot of advice.

"Hmm. I believe it's time for me to retire." Wynne stood and headed toward her tent, pausing only to turn and bid them a good night.

Good night? Not after that conversation. Karyna sighed and slumped, hair falling in her face. The blonde strands filtered the campfire's light, giving the flames an almost golden appearance.

"…You do have really pretty hair, you know."

Her eyes slowly trailed along the edge of her hair, making their way to finally meet Alistair's. Did he…

The realization of what he just said clearly hit him full-impact, eyes shooting wide. "Uh. I mean. Considering how we've been traveling. And such. Um. I could never keep my hair that clean. How do you… I… Uh. I'm going to go check on the dog. Maybe he needs…something…"

Dust flew through the air, Alistair retreating as if there were Darkspawn on his tail. Normally it'd be cause for laughter, but that was just awkward. He was right about one thing, though. Karyna's hair _was_ pretty; pretty _recognizable_. Her whole life, other nobles cooed over her hair and proclaimed how they wished their own, or their poor daughters' hair, were such a bright and lovely shade. Blonde hair wasn't rare, but most people with it ended up with dulled color over the years, due to a lack of care and hard work in the sun. Karyna was fortunate enough to be born into a family and position where neither were a concern, and her hair had retained its luster well into her mid-20s.

She'd never considered herself someone who _looked_ like a noble, but as she sat there inspecting her golden hair, the reality of it hit her: she stuck out like a sore thumb. No wonder the other soldiers and older Grey Wardens at Ostagar rolled their eyes when Karyna waltzed up to the fire that evening before the Joining. They thought she was just another noble playing at hero, and a _woman_ at that. If her team wanted to lay low while recruiting, she would need to make some changes.

Steeling herself, Karyna reached to gather her hair behind her head in one hand. Quickly drawing the emergency dagger from her left boot, before she could second guess herself, she gathered her hair in a tight loop, tucked the dagger into it, and ripped upward as hard as she could. Sharp pain prickled all along her neck and scalp, much like when Nan would brush out her tangles as a child.

Unbidden tears beaded at the edge of her eyes, a side effect of the sudden pain. Hair, unexpectedly light, settled around her face, the rough edges tickling her. After a few deep breaths, Karyna pulled her left hand from behind her back and inspected the long wad of hair still clenched in its fist. Even now, it looked beautiful. She was reminded of the stories she was told as a child, of those so stricken with grief that they rent their clothes and tore out their hair; suddenly the blonde strands in her hand held new meaning for her.

That life was over. She would always be a Cousland, and nothing could take her family away from her, but gone were the days of avoiding matchmaking being her biggest worry. The girl with the perfectly maintained blonde hair was no more.

_Goodbye._

Karyna tossed the loose hair into the fire in front of her, flames greedily snatching them from the air, burning up in a brief flash of light.

"Maker! That's the last time I ever compliment a woman on her hair!"

She twisted to find Alistair staring at her, surprise on his face. He looked so aghast, so absolutely guilty, that Karyna couldn't help but begin to laugh. She fell backward, careful not to fall on her nearby dagger, and just let the laughter flow. It wasn't even that funny – although his expression _was_ funny – but she needed that release; she'd probably go mad without it.

Between the gasps of air and continued laughter, she had a vague sense of Alistair sitting down next to her. "Alright, you're going to have to explain this one to me."

After a several long moments, she had finally regained her composure. "Alistair…" Karyna took a deep breath and grabbed a handful of dirt, rubbing it into her hair. "Do you know why I'm doing this?"

"Uhh, it's some weird courting ritual up in Highever? Maybe next you'll kill a wolf and paint yourself with its blood, in a show of dominance?"

"Hah!" Karyna pushed herself up to sitting and shook her head, dirt flying. Her beautiful blonde locks were smudged with dirt and frayed at the edges. "Do I still look like me?"

Alistair's brow furrowed, more than a little concerned. "Yes, you still look like you."

"No, I mean really. If you knew me well, and saw me in the streets, would you know who I was?"

"Probably… I mean, just because you cut your hair like a blind woman and rolled on the ground doesn't mean you _look_ any different. Most of the dirt's just going to fall out while we walk in the morning, anyway. I'd know; I'm a fan of dirt-rolling." To prove his point, Alistair reached up and ruffled her hair, dirt raining over her shoulders.

She looked at his now-dirty hand and chuckled quietly. "Good point." She sighed and scratched the back of her head. "Are there any oaks around here?"

"Do you think I'm the kind of person who would know?"

They both shared a laugh. "Good point." She smiled wryly and looked around the camp. "I bet Leliana would know… Hey, Leliana!"

Red hair peeked out of the nearest tent, pale blue eyes sparkling with curiosity. It was clear she had totally been eavesdropping. "Yes?"

"Do you know if we have any oaks nearby? I need some gall."

"You, my dear friend, have all the gall you could ever need." A white smile flashed as the bard slunk out of her tent with ease.

A joke well-played; Karyna's shoulders slumped in good humor. "You know what I mean. I need it for my hair."

Leliana's gaze quickly flicked over to Alistair, who Karyna could only assume was giving their friend a confused look. "Hmm. Why would you possibly need oak gall fo– Oh!"

"Now you understand."

Both women smiled at each other, while Alistair looked between them, completely lost. "Uh, anyone want to fill in the man?"

"Hmm." Leliana looked between Karyna and Alistair, tapping a finger against her chin. "If you want to disguise yourselves somewhat, Alistair really ought to dye his hair, too."

"Dye my hair?! Oh, no you don't. I'm getting out of here before you two start lining my armor with flowers or something…" True to his word, Alistair immediately crawl-ran to his tent.

The two girls snickered to each other, Karyna sobering up first. "I really should, though. Dark hair wouldn't be what they'd be looking for."

"I think it's a wonderful idea! Here, let me help you; I know exactly how it's done. I even have some wine in my tent."

"I knew you were holding out on me!"


End file.
